


Comfort Food

by reraimu



Category: Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, Squee (Comics)
Genre: Bonding Time, Food, Intensity, M/M, weird death threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 21:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2667671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reraimu/pseuds/reraimu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pepito surprises Todd with some homemade food. It gets very emotional.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort Food

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for any mistakes, just wanted to get this posted.

He should know by now that closing his window was an integral part of his daily life, and yet he somehow always forgot to do just that.

Todd sat rigidly in his bed, his back propped against the headboard as his eyes honed in on the open window across his room. It was night and all he could see was a black sky that was speckled with a few errant stars. The moth-eaten curtains were fluttering gently in the night breeze, and despite how peaceful it seemed, it was what lay beyond the window that caused every muscle in Todd's body to lock up.

Pepito was never really a sensible person. Instead of knocking on the door like any proper human being, the anti-Christ's preferred method of getting Todd's attention, was flying up to his window and hovering there until Todd happened to notice him. Then again, Pepito was not sensible most of the time, nor was he fully human anyway.

Pepito stared unblinkingly through the window, eyes wide and ringed with shadows. His hands were preoccupied with something Todd couldn't quite make out. Pepito usually scared the crap out of him by choosing to reveal himself in this way, but it was always good to know that he would never make a move to come inside unless Todd invited him in. Although Todd wanted to desperately shut the window and hide under his covers, he would eventually invite Pepito inside out of politeness.

"U-um, h-hi, Pepito," Todd stammered, fiddling with his fingers. He pulled the blanket tighter around his legs.

"Hello, _mi amor_ ," Pepito answered back, his eyes and body unmoving.

Todd gulped. He didn't know what to think about how Pepito went from calling him _amigo_ to _amor_ in the slow span of a year. He never spent too much time thinking about it because he was afraid of coming to a conclusion. He usually dismissed Pepito's endearments. It didn't bother him completely, it was just...strange.

"What do you have with you?" Todd continued, eager for once to get a conversation going. He never told Pepito, but seeing him hovering in the dark like that always frightened Todd. There was something creepy about seeing the half-demon's horns jut out from the dark, or the way the white of his too big eyes shone through the blackness. Sometimes just the shape of Pepito's spindly figure was enough to set Todd off.

Pepito stared down at the object within his hands. He floated closer toward the window, and the light from Todd's room revealed that Pepito was carrying a Tupperware container covered in crinkled foil.

"I made weenies _con huevo,"_ Pepito answered promptly. At Todd's silence, he continued. "It is not much. Mother and father are on vacation, and this is all that I can cook. I was hoping to share it with you, if you are willing."

Over the years of simply spending time with Pepito and constantly going over to his house, Todd had picked up some essential Spanish words here and there. Todd knew the names of most of the foods Rosemary cooked (usually at the request of Señor Diablo), and rarely did he have to ask Pepito for a translation. It was the only thing Todd was sort of proud of.

Todd's stomach gurgled at the prospect of food. He always found it so fascinating, and a little bit frightening, that Pepito always seemed to know when he was most hungry. Todd wasn't allowed in the kitchen after breakfast- his father had told him a long time ago that having Todd eat anything past the morning would put a dent in their savings. Todd never questioned why his mom and dad were allowed to eat dinner and not him, but he just accepted his father's rules compliantly.

"I...that would be nice," Todd said softly, uncertainly. "Would you like to come in?"

"Yes."

"Okay then, Pepito, please come in."

At Todd's invitation, so routine by now, Pepito vanished with a pop and rematerialized within Todd's room. Though he was used to it by now, Todd's heart beat just a little faster whenever Pepito performed magic. Todd didn't think that anyone could get used to the kind of magic Pepito used. Teleportation was only the most basic type. No, Pepito's magic could get a lot more serious, a lot more dark, a lot more deadly. Todd can remember the heat of hell fire, the ghastly creatures waiting within swiveling dark aura's, the way Torq's arm had made a 360 degree turn in its socket last summer.

Todd knew Pepito's magic all too well. It was magic that had harmed others, but had never harmed Todd. Pepito had told him so one day, as he caressed Todd's bruised face with bloody claws and a righteous fire dancing in his eyes. Never Todd, but _for_ Todd.

At the smell of the food, thick with the scent of grease and garlic salt, Todd felt any reservations about Pepito melt away. Todd was about to wiggle his way out from underneath his comforter when Pepito's clawed hand stopped him from moving any further.

"Please, sit. No need to move," Pepito said through a small smile, a hint of fang showing through the crease of his lips. He floated toward the bed and gently lowered himself so that he sat cross-legged in front of Todd. Before setting the container of food directly between them, Pepito pulled out a small dish rag and laid it before them. Only then did he set the container down.

"Ah, plates," Pepito suddenly remembered, and with a snap of his fingers a paper plate appeared next to Todd. He was far too hungry to question why there was only one plate.

"Smells good," Todd commented, his mouth starting to water.

Pepito only nodded, then peeled the foil back. The inside of the container was lined with paper towels to catch and soak up any remaining grease. Pepito had neatly piled the food in different sections. To the far left were the tortillas rolled into tubes, in the center were four over-easy eggs sprinkled with garlic salt, and to the right were four fried hot-dogs that were each sliced down the middle. Everything looked fried and greasy and perfect, and Todd blushed when his stomach let out a particularly loud gurgle.

"I will reheat the tortillas," Pepito muttered. Before Todd could protest, Pepito had swirls of orange and yellow fire teeming from his fingers. Todd yelped, nearly knocking his head into the headboard.

"Stop that!" Todd yelled, body starting to shake.

Pepito eyed him for a second, the fire from his fingers going out in an instant. He merely sat back and folded his hands in his lap. "Eat."

Todd didn't even hesitate when he immediately dove for the tortillas and unrolled them, tearing them into large pieces so that he could pick up a piece of hot-dog and dip it into one of the eggs. He stuffed the small makeshift burrito in his mouth and chewed with vigor. Todd sat there bent over his paper plate, shoveling in bits of egg, hot-dog, and tortilla, yolk dribbling down his chin, before he realized that Pepito had not touched the food at all.

Embarrassed, Todd lowered his plate and looked up at Pepito, who was watching him listlessly, nary a sign of emotion on his face. Todd was familiar with this kind of stare, it was the kind of stare that made Pepito look like he wasn't mentally present, but he knew better. Pepito's expression appeared to be hollow and listless, but Todd knew he was silently mulling things over, analyzing, piecing things together.

"A-aren't you going to eat?" Todd asked quietly, wiping at the corner of his mouth.

Pepito tilted his head to the side, and though it was minute, Todd saw Pepito's eyes soften. Todd set the paper plate in his lap and stared at the container still carrying Pepito's untouched portion. There was no need to speak, Todd knew what that expression meant. It was pity and sadness and anger all warped into one.

"But you made all this food," he spoke, his voice soft.

"I did," Pepito answered.

Todd didn't know what came over him, but suddenly his face felt too hot and his eyes were stinging. He quickly brought his hands to his eyes, trying to staunch the flow of tears, but they merely spilled through his fingers.

Maybe Todd should have paid more attention. All those times, all those little things that Pepito did for him, like waiting for him after school even when he had to stay behind make up a test, or how Pepito always invited him over for dinner every night, even when Todd would turn him down. Todd's fear of Pepito prevented him from seeing just how much the other watched over him.

"You need only say the word," he heard Pepito say. His voice was solemn, firm. Todd could barely see him through his tears, only making out a blurry and watery image of Pepito who had scooted a little closer, leaned in a little more. "I can make them disappear. You can live with me. You will have a place to live always, you will have food, I will cook for you everyday Todd even if all that I can cook are weenies and eggs. You need only say, and I will **eradicate** them."

"I-I, I don't want to join your army of the undead," Todd said through a series of hiccups. Pepito let out a curt laugh.

"Although the offer still stands, I would never make you do something you do not want to do," Pepito replied easily, as if he had said this a dozen times already, and he had. "May I kill them?"

"No!" Todd barked out, drying his eyes."They're my parents, you can't do that!"

Todd watched as Pepito reached across and cupped Todd's hands in his own, the pads of his fingers running soft, slow patterns along the human's palms. Todd gulped, his limbs ready to spring in to action, but as he met eyes with Pepito, Todd realized just how serious this conversation was going to turn.

"Alright, for now, I will obey you," Pepito began, still caressing Todd's hands. "But hear me, if somehow in the future this still continues..." Pepito's voice was getting more heated, more edgier, more absolute, and Todd could feel Pepito's magic flow through his hands. "...if this gets worse, just know that one day, I will kill them. I will do it Todd, and I will be happy to do so, and that will be the **only** time I will not listen to you. It is a promise."

Todd began to shake, genuine fear coursing through his body. He felt winded, as if he had just been punched, because he knew that it would happen eventually. His parents will continue to neglect and abuse him, they'll continue to send him to bed at night with nothing but breakfast in his stomach- he knows this because when he was little, he had hoped that his parents would change, but they hadn't. They never would. Still, that didn't mean that Todd had to like their impending doom.

With fresh tears in his eyes, Todd merely shook his head.

Pepito stood up from the bed, his hand outstretched. "Please, come to my home tonight. We will watch movies and eat candy. Would you like that?"

Todd was terrified, but he too found himself standing up and grasping onto Pepito's hand, threading his trembling fingers through Pepito's own. Todd was standing hand in hand with a demon, with Satan's very own prodigy. Pepito who would take his father's place someday and damn the world to ruin, and Todd saw himself standing beside the anti-Christ, terrified out of his wits, but still standing, and he didn't know what to make of it.

"Okay," Todd breathed. "Okay."


End file.
